Untitiled Biography

October 1961

Winter arrived early bringing with it a cold bitter night, chilled air snapped at fingers and toes, a translucent full moon lit up the clear sky sending its bright beam of light through a curtain less window. Black fungus flourished on unpainted damp walls revealing dark menacing images that danced eerily in the shadows. A heavy cast iron bed stood dead centre in the tiny attic room. Corroded springs poked through a threadbare mattress leaving indentations on delicate flesh a strong musty odour emanated from old khaki coloured army coats a poor substitute for blankets bringing on a rash so itchy you scratched until it bled.
The bed rested on a bare wooden floor, the heads of rusty nails protruded through thick pointed splinters from rotting floorboards resulting in painful injuries to ones feet.

Elsa was three years old and Daniel just nine months, they wore oversized cotton pyjamas which guarded their skin against the coarse material of the makeshift blankets; my sleeveless vest bore no such protection leaving my skin raw from previous nights. I stood near the bedside shivering a lump forming in my throat almost choking me as I watched Mother playfully tuck the babies into bed, She handed them bottles of warm sweet tea; not once did she glance in my direction deliberately ignoring any discomfort I may be suffering, it was as though I was completely invisible to her, she caressed Elsa and Daniel one more time and kissed their foreheads before leaving, at the doorway she turned and looked right at me, for a moment my spirit lifted and I smiled, she had already anticipated my reaction suddenly her expression changed to the one I dreaded; rage filled and grotesque, quick as a flash I lowered my head heart beating faster and faster as the seconds ticked away I knew it was just one of mothers sick games when the door slammed shut I didn’t move she was still in the room her eyes focussed solely on me watching and waiting to see if I dare look up seconds later the door slammed again and I knew she was gone.